A toolbox, Neil Young,and the pole dancer

We danced. Yeah dude…. I mean ….NO….usually when I say we danced I mean it rhetorically…this time we actually danced……I mean SHE danced….…actually we danced 6 months ago…..This is confusing isn’t it???
Lemme try again….. We danced about six months ago…….didnt get her name…she wanted my phone number so I gave it to her….didnt ask her for her number….. hadn’t seen her until ….yesterday. She asks for my number again and said she lost it the first time. We say goodbye and …….my phone rings ten minutes later.

“Im going dancing…you waaanna come?”
“When are you goin?”
“now” she says “RIGHT NOW”
“Im……...in gym clothes”
“I DON’T CARE”

The club is COMLETELY empty at this hour. Its me… the bartender,…. the DJ and her. “What do you do?” I ask. “Im retired”. “Really?....from what?”………”I was a dancer.”….longer than usual pause…..”huh………really?”….. “mmhhmmmm” Im thinking she doesnt mean ballet at the MET. Now I can’t take credit here.

I want to live,
I want to give
I've been a miner
for a heart of gold.

After a few drinks and some interesting story swapping…….I take that back…..HER stories were interesting…….mine were……. boring in comparison.. … she talks to the DJ for 5 minutes. And he nods yes ….over and over. The music starts and she motions with her finger for me to “come” and smiles. “Stand here”…….I stand there. I want to dance and she tells me “No…….watch”. ….. I watched.
Lemme say Im VERY naïve ….…even at my age……... about such things. Apparently you don’t actually need a pole to pole dance. …… I had one on me…..
Eventually she pushes me into a chair when “tequila makes her clothes fall off” comes on……….and it does……
She grabs my hand and out the door we go… brazenly she walks out with a beer bottle in her hand…..defying anyone to say anything….We drive awhile and eventually end up at a deserted park.
I’m my typical self..…a geek…...trying to inject something worthwhile into the conversation but not having much success. She leans back against my car and pulls her bra and shirt up around her neck. She arches her back and my hands just…….travel….
The conversation ……..stops…..
I prompt her for….nothing……...she offers ….everything….
She turns her back to me…….lays her head back and slowly pulls her pants down……her body bends over, her palms flat on the hood of the car…...her shoulder blades tighten together, her hair spilling down her back …..and I said……………”no”.

Keeps me searching
for a heart of gold
And I'm getting old.

Bring it….....bring a little something more than dancing skills. I LOVE to dance. Don’t get me wrong….. but dancing wont help either of us when we have a fight. It wont make things better after I forgot to write down a check. It wont say youre sorry you wrecked the car. Now Im getting rhetorical. If your going to dance I DO want your head on my shoulder but if dancing is the only thing you got in the tool box …….then ill just use my own tools….the nights not over ……. Save the last dance for me. Will ya?